The Twilight 25
by blueandblack
Summary: This fic will have 25 so-called chapters, each of which will be a separate drabble or one-shot based on a different prompt for the livejournal community thetwilight25. The ninth is called 'Lottie and The Don'. It is Mike/Jessica. Prompt: Juvenile.
1. Fiercely

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Wood  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Jacob/Bella  
Rating: G

* * *

Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

A little wooden wolf is just... a little wooden wolf.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend, Bella told herself...

_not little-wooden, huge and flesh-and-blood and_

... and at the same moment she thought - _idly_, she thought - how she'd never been a fan of Marilyn Monroe.

--

The diamond was heart-shaped and heavy, and when she shook her hand it fell naturally to the bottom, swaying pendulous beneath her wrist, free to sparkle in the light...

The wolf pressed itself fiercely against her skin on the other side.

--

It was the only time Bella ever asked Edward for anything.

(Well, besides beauty unparalleled, immortality at the possible expense of her soul. She was still waiting on that one.)

She wanted a chain.

She told him it was because something as precious and perfect as the heirloom he'd given her deserved better than a clunky silver chain that was probably actually plate.

It was true.

She told herself it was because the little wooden wolf looked so pathetic next to Edward's heart.

That was true too _(in a way - forlorn, forsaken, forgotten...)_.

But truer still was this: Looking at that bracelet the way it was was unnerving, _upsetting_ in fact.

It made the choice (the one she swore she didn't have) too clear and too close.

So she asked Edward for a chain for the diamond. He smiled and Alice clapped her hands, said they'd finally broken her, warned of a deluge of fine things to come.

--

The vision clouded quickly.

Once the diamond was around Bella's neck, the little wooden wolf fell easily to the bottom of the bracelet, and when she held her wrist up it was free to sparkle in the light but it did not.

A little wooden wolf is just a little wooden wolf.

True.

But diamonds were not Bella's best friend, and she found that whenever her arm rested at her side, the wolf fell into her open palm and her fingers closed fiercely around it...


	2. Startled, starting

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Erosion  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Embry/Leah  
Rating: PG-13 for the F-word?

* * *

Leah thought of the past two years as an erosion.

She thought of _back then_ as another place entirely, an alternate universe that now was not a part of.

She had been a young woman. She had loved. She had been loved. She had made love. She had been made-love-to.

And now... she was an anomaly. A wrong thing. She was shorn and neutered. She was a lone female werewolf in a pack of men.

She had been a daughter.

And now she was... half a daughter.

She had been a person.

_A good person,_ she thought bitterly (wistfully).

And now that person was gone.

It was all gone.

_It's not gone._ Embry's voice echoed in her own mind and she flinched, drew back and changed direction, like that would help matters.

_Are you talking to me?_ she asked, in a way that she thought made it very clear he shouldn't be.

_Sure. We're the only ones out, who else would I be... Well I'm not so much talking to you as thinking at you, though. You know, I don't think I'll ever get used to - _

_Well what the hell are you thinking at me about?_ she snapped.

Again, it was supposed to be rhetorical, she didn't want an answer, she didn't need any answers from him because he knew nothing about anything and why the hell was he out running at three in the morning, that was _her_ time and everybody knew it and he needed to back off and not answer any of her questions because -

_You._ Embry thought in reply.

_What about me?_ She drew back again, clawed at the ground, changed direction. _Stop thinking about me, it's fucking rude okay? I don't need people butting in on my - _

_It's not gone,_ he thought again, and even though it was kind it sounded kind of smug to Leah, like he was judging her, like he knew all about her and she was some sort of moron who didn't know an erosion when she saw one, when she felt one, when she _lived_ one and _What's not gone?_ she thought, before she could stop herself.

_Damnit!_

She really needed to work on ignoring people with her thoughts.

_Your personality,_ Embry clarified, even though of course she already knew. _It's still there, it's just kind of buried under an avalanche of bitch. _

There'd been a smile in that sentence, a softness, an invitation to trust.

Leah bristled. _What the fuck would you know? You were like eight years old when I had a personality._

_Fifteen,_ Embry corrected. _And like I said - or thought - it's still there. You just gotta dig around a bit to find it. _

_Quit digging,_ Leah thought, _and fuck off, fuck off and leave me alone and stop acting like you - _

She phased back, pulled her pale dress over her dark body, ran home and ran straight into him.

"What are you _doing?_" she shrieked.

"Fucking off," Embry replied good-naturedly, "In the direction of my home. Alright by you?"

"Fine," Leah muttered, and then "Sorry," as she stepped past him.

"It's okay."

The apology had been quiet, barely there, and Leah thought Embry's acknowledgment of it was loud and disproportionate. And it was loud and disproportionate, too, when he took her right arm in his left hand, when he slid down over her skin till their fingers touched.

Leah was breathing hard.

_I've been running,_ she thought, and she said again "Sorry," added "You just startled me, that's all. I'm not used to... I didn't want you to hear some of those things."

Embry smiled, let her hand fall from his. "Hey Leah, if you ever want to try being yourself around people you could start with me."

Leah looked down when she nodded and thought _Hey Mr Know-it-all, maybe I just did._


	3. Beautiful

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Aesthetic  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Alice, Jasper, Edward  
Rating: G

* * *

"Oh, isn't it wonderful to be home!" Alice said for the third time that day, as she pushed open the double doors of Forks High-School.

"Home? But you weren't even here the first time around," Edward remarked.

"A trivial detail," she scoffed, taking hold of Jasper's hand and tugging, as if to hurry him up.

She quickly decided he was far too slow for her, let go of his hand and left him behind with Edward. She had exploring to do.

"You know," Jasper said, "I've seen Alice in front of the Taj Mahal. I've seen her in Venice. I've seen her on Venice Beach. I've seen her climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower in a snow-storm. She was pretty excited about all of those things."

Edward smiled. "Alice is always excited about all of those things."

Jasper smiled too. "Yes she is. But I've never seen her quite like this. She's so violently happy that if she were human, I'd be worried for her health."

"I can tell," Edward said. "And I don't even share your gift."

Jasper nodded, laughed softly and said it was almost making his head spin.

They turned a corner and saw Alice again, watched as she clapped her hands, ducked in and out of classrooms with small, breathy sounds of approval.

They shook their heads in unison.

"Really, Alice," Jasper said when they caught up with her, "The house was one thing, but how can you possibly be so excited about _high-school?_"

"And this particular high-school, too," Edward added, eyeing the grey fleet of lockers dolefully. "It's an architectural wrong."

"Oh shush you two, it's _beautiful!_" Alice said cheerfully. And then she dipped her head in a way that might have seemed shy to a bystander, whispered, with one of her secret smiles, "I can see great things happening here."

In that moment Edward saw a flicker of something in Alice's mind when he could have sworn he wasn't even looking. It was a flicker, a fragment, just the barest lightening stroke of something entirely new. Something strange and confronting and lovely that he didn't quite understand.

And in that same moment he wondered whether he did in fact share Jasper's gift, or whether it was just because he was so close and Alice was so very happy, because for a moment, for the tiniest fraction of a second, Edward agreed with every fiber of his being, heart, mind and body, that this place, this dreary mess of corridors and children, this absolute aesthetic void, was indeed impossibly, terrifyingly _beautiful._


	4. She Might Not

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Plea  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Jacob/Bella  
Rating: PG-13 for cursing

* * *

Jacob remembers asking his mom to stay.

"Pleeeease," he'd whined, like he was asking for more cake. "Heaven sucks! And Rachel says it's not even there, maybe..."

He remembers pressing his face against her arm that was still warm enough to be a lie everyone in the room wanted to believe. He remembers squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could and saying "Pleeeease, stay here with me, pleeeease," until someone whose voice he didn't recognize had told someone else he didn't see that he was making it harder for the girls. She had taken him away and distracted him with other people's toys and that had been that.

Sarah Black had rushed off to heaven if it existed, and Jacob had started not quite getting over the fact that she couldn't (wouldn't) stay here with him.

When his sisters left for college he told himself he didn't feel a thing, even if the words were still inside him, locked up tight of course because they were small and pathetic and completely inappropriate; _Pleeeease stay..._

But college wasn't heaven, and very quickly there were photos in the letterbox that proved it did exist, and Rachel and Rebecca were in it, and they were coming home for Thanksgiving even though nobody on the res would be throwing a party (_This year I'm going to be thankful for white people's fucked up holidays,_ Rachel wrote.).

College wasn't heaven.

But Jacob had heard things about Italy.

It was supposed to be beautiful. _To see Venice and die,_ he had no idea where that quote was from, but there were always women on the TV saying _buongiorno_ and how _bella Italia_ was, and Bella, _Bella, Bells..._

Jacob had heard things about Italy. It had all the best food and all the best vampires too, apparently.

And now it had his girl, almost, his almost-girl.

_Please, Bella, I'm begging..._

Jacob had grown up and he no longer stretched his words out like fucking pizza dough. It's not like a few extra e's had done much good the first time around, anyway.

He'd begged, but he hadn't begged too long. He hadn't wanted to make it harder for himself.

He smiled thinly now, pressed his fist against his chest, starting waiting, he started waiting and he started not quite getting over the fact that Bella wouldn't (couldn't) -

_...You could stay here with me. You could stay alive. _

She hadn't.

She might not...


	5. Not The Ground She Walks On

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Worship  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Jasper/Alice  
Rating: G

* * *

Jasper overhears things sometimes.

It's difficult not to. This is a noisy house by design - it's something to do with acoustics that Esme is proud of and Edward adores and nobody else thinks much about except to say _This is a noisy house. _

Added to that is the fact that he can hear so very well and Bella Swan can't. When Alice whispers, she's really _stage_-whispering; the house is a theater and from the cheap seats in another room entirely Jasper hears...

"I mean, he pretty much worships the ground you walk on. Honestly, I've never seen anything like it." There's a pause, a breathy laugh, and a high-pitched "It's so cute!"

Bella objects between happy blushes Jasper doesn't need to see to feel, and she says that Alice is exaggerating, that, if anything, it's the other way around, because Edward is the one who is special, and...

Jasper doesn't hear the rest. He's too busy thinking about the first part. The part Alice said. Something about worship and a woman. Something about _I've never seen..._

He closes his eyes, smiles to himself and thinks _Oh Alice, have you never looked at me?_

Jasper worships his wife. And not the ground she walks on, and none of this "pretty much."

He literally worships Alice Cullen.

She is his hope, after all.

Jasper smiles to himself again, because he's sure that she would call him a sap if he called her the absence of war.

But it's true. For him, it's true.

She is his absence of war.

She is his salvation and his last ounce of strength.

Alice is Jasper's one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, and he would follow her, he will follow her, anywhere, always.


	6. Cable Is A Curse

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Crusade  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Charlie  
Rating: PG

* * *

When he heard that Bella was coming to stay with him, one of the first things Charlie did was get cable.

Turned out his daughter wasn't really the TV type.

He kept meaning to cancel the subscription, but it kept slipping his mind.

He was getting old, he supposed.

He only got around to doing it one particular Thursday morning, months after Bella had stopped pretending to be a huge fan of some pasty kid who slid down banisters and talked enthusiastically about food in an accent Charlie couldn't understand.

_Cable is a curse,_ he said to himself while he waited on hold. And waited. And waited. His call was not important to them and cable was a curse, because there were never any good movies on and there was always far too much self-help to go around.

On Wednesday night he'd been up late, mulling over Bella's newly depressed state, thinking how she was made out of him and how he had no idea what to say to her.

He'd been sucking down Vitamin R and channel surfing, and of course he'd had to stop on what may as well be the goddamn Dr Phil channel while he'd reached down, fished around for the Pringles and popped.

He'd thought: _Some doctor. Guy doesn't even have a medical degree._

He'd heard: _One man's crusade to keep his family from falling apart._

He'd remembered: Once, early in their relationship, Renee had asked him, teasingly, why he'd even decided to become a cop if he wasn't into running around catching crooks.

Once, long after she had left, long after Bella had stopped spending her holidays in Forks, he had asked himself, bleakly, why he'd even decided to fall in love if he wasn't into running around trying to make people love him back.

He had asked himself, more bleakly still, why he'd even decided to have a kid, if he wasn't into keeping his family from falling apart.


	7. A Doubled World

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Walls  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Alice  
Rating: PG

* * *

Walls.

One, two, three makes four.

Wall, wall, wall... walls.

If only she had a lick of paint, yes, something to brighten the place up, that would be nice. Pink, probably, lemon, _lovely._

Or ink.

She'd asked for ink, but Mrs All-In-White had said they'd no paper to spare. She had wanted to reply that she had no need for paper, all she wanted was the ink, because if she had a little ink she would write on these walls _I AM NOT MAD,_ she would write _I DO NOT TASTE THE BLOOD OF CHILDREN IN MY DREAMS AND LIKE IT._

But of course, she knew exactly what would have happened if she'd been so honest. And that is not a manner of speaking, mind, Mary Alice Brandon _knew exactly_.

She knew things... Impossible things that called each other lies...

But she wasn't mad, even if sometimes she wondered whether being so very afraid of being mad was too close for comfort to the real thing.

She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, pictured tapestries and gilt-edged frames.

In her mind, in the part that she was sure belonged to her, she cloaked these four walls in finery, till they were no longer stark and grayish and too familiar. She tried, with all of her might, to see them differently, Alice tried, with all of her might, to see anything but this room in which she saw too clearly two faces and a doubled world, one kind of death, or another, perhaps...


	8. The Honeymoon

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
Prompt: Soft  
Pen name: bluesuzanne  
Pairing: Jacob/Bella  
Rating: PG-13

* * *

Bella yawned and stretched, reached out for a warm and ready hand.

It was Sunday afternoon now, and she was pretty sure that neither she nor Jacob had been fully clothed at any point this whole weekend.

(Not to worry, Billy was away with Charlie on a convenient fishing trip.)

It had been less than a week since she had shown up at the garage and sobbed out a harsh and confusing mix of "It's _over,_ okay?" and "I love you, _alright?_", and things had progressed very quickly from there.

(Each had been surprised by how easy it had been to get the other into bed.)

Bella yawned again, tapped her thumb against Jacob's knuckles. "Hey remember that time you were really stupid and rude and kissed me really stupidly and rudely?" she asked.

Jacob looked away, bit his lip, smiled his way out of it, said "You know, I'm pretty sure that never actually happened."

Bella laughed. "Nice to see you finally feel bad about it." She kicked his shin under the sheets, _carefully,_ narrowed her eyes and added "'Bout time, jeez."

Jacob was in the process of saying something nice and smug about how at least it had gotten her where he wanted her, but Bella shushed him absent-mindedly before he could reach the -

"So anyway, when I punched you, were you by any chance, like, hitting my hand with your face at the exact same moment?"

Jacob stared at her for a beat, then raised one eyebrow, then grinned, then shook his head. "Bells, the idea was to seduce you. Now I know I made some rookie mistakes with it, but I promise, beating you up was never on the agenda."

Bella hummed out "_Hmm._" She rested her head against Jacob's shoulder, let go of his hand and reached up to touch his face. "That makes no sense," she said.

"It makes no sense that I wouldn't beat you up to seduce you?"

Bella shushed him again, busied herself prodding at his jaw-line. After a moment she said "It makes no sense that I would break my hand on this. I'm not strong enough to create that kind of impact. And you might be a werewolf and all, but at the end of the day, you're actually pretty soft."

"I'm _soft?_" Jacob spluttered in disbelief. "Honey, you'd better take that back or my face will totally whale on your hand."

Bella sighed dramatically. "Oh come now. No need for violence, I'm already in love with you."

"Yes you _are,_" Jacob whispered.

"Yes I _am,_" Bella whispered back. Then she frowned, back to business. "It is weird though. Your skin doesn't feel any different from a normal human being's – well, apart from the heat. But it's not like you're made of stone. I mean, compared to - "

No. She couldn't say that name, not yet. Maybe never.

Bella had found that losing and letting go were not the opposites they so often pretended to be, and the name _Edward Cullen_… it was a raw burn. It was a brand on her heart.

She felt tears welling deep down, somewhere in her chest, bubbling up and threatening to mar this perfect day.

(It couldn't be perfect for her, of course, not in the shadow of so much guilt and sorrow, but it was perfect for Jacob, she thought, and she thought that was almost the same thing.)

Jacob was about to try out some comforting words he was very uncomfortable with, but Bella was too quick for him.

"You're squishy!" she declared, with an absurd smile and a pinching of his cheek.

And then they both collapsed into the kind of laughter that was really _giggling_ and was quite hysterical enough to allow for a few tears.

It ended in kisses of course, these things always end in kisses. But before they could get carried away, Jacob made Bella look him in the eye, even if hers were too bright and full of the things that hurt, full of the things that made this day less than perfect.

"I really love you," he said quietly. "I mean properly. Not like kids at school or whatever." He watched her while she nodded, tried to decide whether she'd really understood, finally added "I mean I'll look after you. When you need me to. No matter what."

Bella was moved. She was a little too moved.

She was moved to think of the brand on her heart, and how Jacob Black was not the only person who would look after her whenever she needed him to, no matter what.

Edward had promised as much – and much more eloquently - when she'd given him back his ring.

She took a deep breath, one she wished wasn't quite so shaky, and then she leaned in to Jacob's lips and whispered "So you mean you'll be my _soft_ place to fall?"

"Oh that's _it,_" he replied between kisses. "The honeymoon is officially _over._"

(They realized a few minutes later that it actually was. There was just barely time to retrieve Bella's bra from the couch before Charlie wheeled Billy through the door.)


	9. Lottie and The Don

**Author's notes** - Join **adifferentforest dot com** now! The people behind this awesome new Twilight site were kind enough to make me one of their VIP authors, precisely because they want to make sure that Jacob/Bella is represented at their site. How cool is that? Plus, they're a good time. So join and come check out my cabin. It's comfy as heck and has little wolf-prints around it. Sweet!

Also, I finally have **twitter**! My name is **suzannebleu** and if you like my fic I would love to add you so we can keep in touch and freak out over fandom events and give each other new fanfic recs and such!

Yes, yes, this round of The Twilight 25 finished a trillion years ago. I'm still going to finish my fics for each prompt though... at my own pace.

**Title: **Lottie and The Don

**Pairing:** Mike/Jessica

**Prompt: **Juvenile

* * *

Angela watched Jessica who was watching Mike who was watching the new girl.

It had been like this all week. If Angela could read faces, and she could, Mike had been smitten with Bella Swan since the moment she'd shown up at Forks High.

And Jessica had been seething with a smile.

Angela reached out and picked up a carrot stick, reached out with her other hand and pressed it firmly against Jessica's wrist.

Jessica turned. "What? Did the bell ring?" she asked sharply.

"Nope, we're still at lunch," Angela said. She took a bite of carrot, rubbed her thumb against Jessica's skin, smiled once she was done chewing. "He'll get over it, you know. It's only because she's shiny and new."

Jessica shook her hand free, looked down at her nails appraisingly, asked in a carefully distracted way "Who's shiny and new? Who's under something?"

Angela grinned, chewed on her carrot stick, said "Oh Jess," with her mouth full, chastised herself inwardly and automatically, swallowed, added "Bella Swan and Mike Newton."

Jessica raised her eyebrows, smiled archly to match. "Sitting in a tree, perhaps?"

Angela laughed. "Not for long," she assured her. "That's the point."

Jessica rolled her eyes, shook her juice-box, set it down. "Oh please," she said sullenly. "It's not like I would want to date Mike Newton anyway. He's so... _juvenile._"

Angela nodded, shoved another carrot stick in her mouth to keep from laughing again.

"I'm serious," Jessica said, with a little shrug. "Mike would probably, like, take you to see a chick-flick because - " she rolled her eyes for effect " - that's what girls are into. And then he'd go all out and take you through a drive-thru somewhere and you'd be covered in grease and holding his shake for him before you were halfway home." She punctuated her speech by squeezing the last of the moisture out of the juice-box, sucking vigorously on the straw, punctuated _that_ with "_Lame._"

Angela just grinned again, nudged her own juice-box toward her friend.

"You know who is _not_ juvenile and who also, coincidentally, totally hates Bella Swan?" Jessica asked after a moment, her gaze lingering on something over Angela's shoulder.

"Too easy," Angela said. "Edward Cullen. But..." She leaned in, preparing to mock in that perfectly affectionate way good people mock. "I seem to remember a time when it wasn't like you would want to date him anyway."

Jessica waved her hand dismissively, said "History," and in the next breath "I need a manicure."

They were quiet for a while. Angela finished her carrot sticks and thought how she probably needed a manicure too, but whenever she got one the polish always wound up chipped within the hour, so really, what was the point? Her money would be better spent on new printing paper - matte finish, the stuff Ben had gotten her was way too shiny, not that she would ever say anything because it was so cute how he'd...

"Edward smiled at me the other day," Jessica announced proudly.

"Oh?" Angela asked.

"_Oh._" Jessica confirmed. Then she glanced in Mike's direction, looked quickly back at Angela to see if she'd noticed.

(She had, of course.)

Jessica sighed and her shoulders slumped with it. She straightened them with the next breath, tucked her hair over them lock by lock, adjusted her headscarf, pressed her lips together and found them to be glossy, still.

Then she said "I bet _Edward_ wouldn't do something moronic like asking people he doesn't know to a stupid school dance for a first date."

Angela smiled. "Shiny and new, that's all. I promise." She looked at her watch. "Bell's gonna ring."

The two girls began packing up their stuff and Jessica kept talking. "I bet Edward Cullen would take you somewhere nice. And he'd play classical music in the car instead of the top freaking forty, because he's like, _not juvenile._ And you'd like, slow-dance under the stars. _Except_ then you'd have to stop slow-dancing, because he'd pull out a guitar or something and play you a song he wrote _about you._ And then - "

"And then he'd fly you to the moon?" Angela sing-songed.

Jessica yawned and stretched as she stood up, took advantage of the opportunity to look back at Mike and Bella, and when she turned around again she hissed "Quite possibly."

* * *

Six weeks later, Bella Swan was dull and old. Well, that is to say, she was old news. And now that she was all about Edward Cullen – which, who the hell saw _that_ freak-show coming anyway - she had even less of a personality than when she'd first rolled into town.

And _look who came crawling back_ and finally asked Jessica to go out with him.

Mike Newton, that's who. Captain of Forks High's newly formed Badminton Team, haver of blue eyes that could be squinty or wide depending on his mood, wearer of an awesome leather bomber jacket that would look even more awesome a girlfriend, habitual eater of sour lemon drops, lover of cats "but not those jungle beasts that will eat you alive", secret reader of Charlotte Bronte novels – Jessica had caught him once last year, holed up in the back of the library with both copies of Jane Eyre, and he'd sworn he was only in it for the crazy bitch in the attic and the maiming, and she'd sworn she'd never tell a soul…

She said sure when he asked her to a movie, made him wait two weeks with excuses about assignments and a sore throat and an imaginary cousin who'd come all the way from San Francisco to hang, then spoke loudly to all and sundry about how she'd gone out with her cousin and his college friends, and they'd seen the latest piece of crap with the girl from Grey's Anatomy and thrown popcorn at the screen every time their intelligence was insulted, how they didn't make 'em like they used to, how there was nothing showing at the moment that she'd even pay one dollar to see.

When Mike walked by her locker on Friday she smiled, tossed her hair a couple of times, waited for him to ask if she was free that night.

He did, and she said she was, and he said he'd pick her up at seven.

* * *

They drove to Port Angeles - _Mike_ drove, that is, and he played Chris Isaak the whole way, and Jessica thought how it could have been really lame, but at least he skipped over Wicked Game, and really, Chris Isaak was a pretty cool guy.

There were no movie theaters or drive-thrus involved, but they did end up with fries and sodas from McDonald's, and they sat on the wooden benches in the little square behind the mall, the one with the fountain that people threw good money into for, like, no reason, and they talked and ate and fed pigeons that really didn't need their charity either.

Mike smiled a lot. He told her her outfit was hot and rolled his eyes when Bella Swan's name came up, starting making jokes before Edward Cullen could get a look-in.

He puffed out his cheeks, stuck a fry between his teeth and did his best Marlon Brando.

It was _hilarious,_ and Jessica had never seen _The Godfather_ or _Part Two,_ but she didn't tell him that.

It was fun.

He was funny.

Mike was a pretty cool guy, and at a quarter to eleven, about a half hour before they'd have to head home if they wanted to get there before curfew, he told her the worst thing he had ever done.

"Remember Lottie? My family's cat?"

Jessica grinned. "I remember that you used to have a photo of her in your wallet and when Eric found it the whole school pointed and laughed for like, a millennium."

Mike sighed. "Including you, if I remember correctly."

"I was young and easily led!" Jessica squeaked with a defensiveness that was singularly flirtatious. Then she grinned again, stole the last fry from under his nose, added "And also, it was really, really funny."

Mike looked down, shook his head. "It was kind of funny, I guess," he conceded.

But he certainly wasn't laughing.

"What's the matter?" Jessica asked, when the silence between them had settled in a little too well.

Mike stared into the flecked grease in the empty cardboard box where all those fries had been. "I killed Lottie," he said evenly.

Jessica blinked, open-mouthed. It took her a moment to find her voice, because she was remembering a Crime Investigations she saw where they said serial killers always started out with animals, usually their pets, _often cats._

She blinked again. "I thought she just got... old."

"She did," Mike said in a heavy voice. "But I also reversed over her in the garage when my dad was teaching me how to drive."

"Oh," Jessica said, and her brow creased with concern, because Mike totally wasn't a serial killer and he looked really upset.

She reached out and touched his arm, muttered "Shit."

Mike looked up with the best half-smile he could manage. "Yeah. It was kind of..." He shook his head, looked down again. "She'd been around since I was four. And she was already part of the family when Erin was born, so..."

When his eyes met Jessica's again she thought maybe she was going to cry. Or he was. She wasn't sure which would have been more mortifying.

"So Erin wouldn't talk to me for three weeks straight," Mike finished finally. He shrugged in a way that seemed helpless and small. "I felt like such a shit. Anyway that's why it took me a little longer to get my license and stuff. Which actually resulted in a whole lot of pointing and laughing too."

Jessica smiled when he did, said softly, "I guess Lottie got her revenge from beyond the grave. You're even."

Mike laughed, turned to face her, leaned over and tangled his fingers in hers.

Their joined hands fell from his arm to the wooden bench, and Jessica thought how from this moment onward she wasn't afraid to say she was in love with Mike - not out loud, of course, she wasn't crazy, but she wasn't afraid to say it to herself, to know it, to want him to know it sometime soon, to want him to want the same thing...

This was the moment, she decided, this was it... and a moment later, sure enough, he was kissing her, and she was thinking how her cheeks were cold, how his nose was warm against hers, how the leather of his jacket felt good under her fingers, how his fingers felt better at the small of her back, how in a year from today, on their first anniversary, she would buy him a kitten and they would name it _The Don._


End file.
